


Oh, Hell was once a place on Earth...

by Insecuriosity



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Akira is 'deadnamed' throughout chapter 1, Character Study, Devilman Crybaby Spoilers, Devilman Crybaby centric, Gen, POV Outsider, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Tags reflect what is CURRENTLY in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/pseuds/Insecuriosity
Summary: Akira Fudo died for humanity. He fought, hoping that humanity would be able to defeat the Demons of Satan's army in the same way he had: With a pure heart, and love.He woke up in a world without Demons, a world filled with amazing powers, and a world heroes that fight against those that would harm civilians and innocents. Akira cried at the beauty of this new world and vowed to protect it once again - hoping that Ryo and Miki too, would be reborn in this Utopia.-Satoshi Anayama is born a crybaby.  An unremarkable boy with black hair, between two parents with unremarkable quirks and a lot of love to give. Sure, he demands that his parents call him 'Akira', and sure, he cries a lot more than most children do - but he is as normal as any other child.(And then Satoshi Anayama gets his quirk, and things go real south, real fast.)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	Oh, Hell was once a place on Earth...

Satoshi Anayama was a terrible crybaby. 

From the very day he was born, it seemed that he was either sleeping, or wailing his little lungs out. At any and all hours of the day the little boy would suddenly start crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks and his limbs flailing around in his crib. A week after his birth, his parents brought him to a doctor to see if he was in pain somehow, but his body was whole and perfect. They brought him to a Quirk specialist to see if it was an early Quirk activation, but he was decidedly quirkless, just as a baby should be. The doctors shrugged, and said that this kind of thing just happened sometimes.   
His parents bought earplugs, and learned to care for little Satoshi based on a set schedule, because even his mother couldn’t discern his usual crying from a call for food or help. After a stressful and sleepless year, Satoshi’s crying finally lessened, and both his parents and his doctors were happy that this phase had come to a close. 

As Satoshi grew older, his crying grew strange in a different way. He cried at the sight of a butterfly landing on a flower, rubbing snot on his sleeve as he watched the colourful bug totter around on the petals. He cried at random people in the streets, clinging to their legs without regard for his own safety. In one memorable occasion, he had gone running straight through traffic to accost an American tourist with blonde hair and blue eyes, chattering a mile a minute as if meeting an old friend. It was the fastest that his mother had ever seen him move, and he had already been by the man’s side by the time she even realised he had dashed across the busy street.

“Ryo!” He had cried at the man, smiling and blubbering unintelligibly as he leaked tears like a faucet. “Ryo!” 

His mother had been too angry ( and scared, and relieved ) to address the stranger, too busy squeezing Satoshi’s arm in her hand before he could slip free again. “Satoshi, what has gotten into you running into traffic like that?!”

“No, Ryo, Ryo!” Satoshi had ignored her, still reaching for the foreigner. 

The man in question had made a fast retreat, and Satoshi had been inconsolable for the rest of the day, crying as if the world was coming to an end. Satoshi’s mother worried, and neither she nor her husband could understand what or who their son cried so much about, but the next morning Satoshi was back to normal once again.   
His parents chalked it down to the innate oddities that came with children, and they reminded themselves to just hold Satoshi’s hand tightly when blonde haired foreigners were around. Just as they did their best to point Satoshi away from flowers and butterflies, before they brought him to tears again.

A handful of weeks later, Satoshi fell from the stairs. He broke his arm, and tore a wound in his chin big enough to need five stitches. He didn’t cry. He walked into the kitchen calmly, and announced that he had a boo-boo. He didn’t cry when his mother panicked, or when the shock had worn off and they sat waiting in the Emergency Room. The tears only came when the nurse came in to put the cast on his arm, and introduced herself as ‘Miki’. 

His parents were baffled, but therapists and specialists could find nothing wrong with their child. The closest guess anyone had was EQMS, Early Quirk Manifestation Syndrome, but until Satoshi became four and the true nature of his quirk came out, there wasn’t much they could do.   
And really, what was the harm of a boy that cried at odd things, but not at pain? As long as his parents knew to watch out for scrapes or wounds, and they kept a close eye on him in public, things would be alright, wouldn’t they? It was a phase, and if the odd behaviour persisted after age four, there were new programs and tests they could run.

Satoshi Anayama was happy, and under his parents’ careful watch he didn’t seem to get hurt more than other children did. Nobody could explain how he could smile through a broken bone when he was such a crybaby about other things, but as long as it didn’t hurt him it should be fine, shouldn’t it?

(He had had far worse, and in a way pain was a reminder that he was still alive. It was also a distraction from the fact that Miki and Ryo _weren’t_.) 

-

Satoshi Anayama he didn’t listen to his name very well. 

It took a while before people noticed. It wasn’t unsual for some children to have slower linguistic development, and it made sense that they couldn’t yet tell apart their own name from the slurry of other words being thrown their way. Except that wasn’t the case for Satoshi.   
Satoshi he clearly knew that ‘Satoshi’ was his name when his parents asked him. He babbled and parroted words as a child his age should, and he was even a little bit ahead of the standard development for children his age, but he simply didn’t react to his name. His parents would have been angry, if it wasn’t so clear that Satoshi was just as frustrated by it was them. 

They saw a doctor to check on his hearing, but his ears were fine. A little more reluctantly, they brought him to a licenced paediatrician who did little tests with Satoshi, disguised as games. Satoshi breezed through them without effort. His intelligence was a little below average for his age, and he showed some odd behaviour, but it wasn’t anything worth worrying about. As long as little Satoshi did well at school, made some friends, and was capable of functioning normally, there was no problem.  
It got a little bit better, as the family of three practised saying Satoshi’s name as much as possible, and one day it came to a head. Satoshi was watching the television while drawing, putting down a messy crayon rendition of his imaginary friends, when his little head snapped up and stared at the screen – enthralled. 

“Kaa-san?” Satoshi said later that day. “Can I get a second name? Like the heroes?”

His mother smiled. Every child loved heroes, and everyone had their own private name for the hero they’d dreamt of becoming when they had been young. Most kids went through a phase where they wanted people to call them by their new ‘hero’ name, and it looked like Satoshi had finally reached that phase. 

“Ah, of course Satoshi-kun! You’re such a strong big boy, of course you can get a hero name. You’re practically a hero already! What kind of name did you think of?”

Satoshi grinned and replied, “Akira Fudo!” 

Satoshi’s mother blinked. Akira Fudo – Sunlight God of fire? What a bizarre choice for a hero name. It was almost shockingly civilian. “A- Akira Fudo? That’s … a nice name. How did you come up with it?” 

“It’s my name! Akira’s my name!” Satoshi said happily, slapping a hand onto the table decisively. 

His parents shared a glance over the table. Neither of them had fire quirks, or sunlight quirks. Satoshi’s mother could use the iron in her body to accelerate her healing, and Satoshi’s father was capable of transforming his hands into furry claws. Was there a hero on TV that Satoshi had named himself after? But they had child-locked all of the new-channels, so how…

“And it’s a good name Satoshi,” His mother nodded. “Did you hear that name on TV?”

“Akira! Call me Akira!” Satoshi said, slapping his hand on the table again. “It’s my name now!” 

Satoshi’s parents looked each other in the eyes for a moment, and Satoshi’s father shrugged. “Sure, why not. Why don’t you go back to eating your carrots, Akira?”

Satoshi’s smile could have blinded someone with how radiant it was, and in his excitement, he painted the dinner table with his food. His mother smiled back and didn’t say a word until after Satoshi had gone to bed, and there was no risk of him overhearing them. 

“Do you really think it is a good idea to indulge him in this?” His mother asked. 

“Yes. What’s the harm? He’ll grow out of it,” His father replied. “It’s just a phase, and he could have done a lot worse than ‘Akira’. Can you imagine having to call him All Might in public? Or Endavour?”

“Oh, God forbid!” Satoshi’s mother laughed at that, and scooted herself a little closer to her husband. He had probably just gotten the name from a commercial and thought that it was a cooler name than ‘Satoshi’.  
Satoshi’s parents decided to settle in and wait for little Satoshi to get tired of this new name. It was bound to happen eventually. Once Satoshi got his Quirk, he would probably be jumping at the chance to think of a creative name for his Hero-persona, and ‘Akira’ was simply too plain to be a hero-name.

(It wasn’t a phase, and ‘Satoshi’ would never be his name again. It had never been his name in the first place.) 

-

Satoshi Anayama was wary of people with mutation quirks. 

He never admitted that he was scared when his parents asked, but there was no mistaking the way he’d duck behind his mother’s legs whenever someone with a mutation passed them by on the streets. There was no mistaking the way he’d clench his little hands into fists and go pale as if he’d been shown something awful.   
His parents didn’t understand where this fear could have come from. His father’s side of the family had a lot of mutation quirks and they had never spoken a negative word about people whose bodies looked a little different from the norm, but still Satoshi refused to relax around them. 

Until finally, Satoshi’s father sat down with him and showed him his quirk – slowly transforming his hands into furry claws and back again under Satoshi’s watchful eyes. “See? I have a scary quirk too,” He said. “I’m still your dad, and I’ll never ever hurt you with my quirk.”

Satoshi had grabbed one of his father’s fingers, staring with awe, and he had nearly cut himself on one of his dad’s claws before the man retracted them. “… You’re a devilman too,” He’d mumbled with awe. 

“S-Akira! What did we say about calling people devils?”

“Not to, ‘cause it’s rude,” Satoshi replied automatically. “You got claws too! I didn’t know that! Do you have teeth too? Wings? Tails?”

“Teeth, yes, the rest no. I’m lucky, and I can make them come and go whenever I want,” His father explained, letting his son pull at his fingers and nails. “A lot of people with mutation quirks can’t change how they look, so they can’t help but look a little intimidating. You don’t need to be scared of them though, they’re normal people just like me and Kaa-san.” 

“I’ll get claws too?” Satoshi asked. He sounded hopeful, almost a little … desperate? 

His father blinked in surprise – he’d thought that Satoshi would be unhappy to hear that he could get a mutation quirk. “I – maybe you will. You could also get your mother’s quirk, or something from her family line. What kind of quirk would you want?”

Satoshi’s face pulled into a serious expression. “Something strong. I gotta protect Kaa-san and Tou-san and Ryo and Miki from the dem-… the bad people.” 

His father carded his fingers through Satoshi’s wild black hair. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Akira, but Kaa-san and I are here to protect you, not the other way around. And remember, not everyone that _looks_ bad is always bad, okay?”

Satoshi squirmed away from his father’s hand. There were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “When I get my q-…kwuk, I’ll protect you and everyone.” 

“Of course you will champ, but until then, Tou-san and Kaa-san will make sure you’re safe, alright? Using Tou-san’s super cool claws, and Kaa-san’s awesome healing powers. Okay?”

“Okay,” Satoshi said, and he started crying in the gentle hug that his dad folded him into. 

The little talk helped, far quicker than either of his parents were expecting. After Satoshi’s father had shown him his claws, Satoshi stopped trying to hide from strangers with mutation quirks on the street. He didn’t stop being wary, and he made sure he was never alone with someone who had a visible mutation, but he was quicker to trust, and perhaps best of all: he stopped calling them devils and demons. 

(He wasn’t afraid. He was hungry for the promise of blood and violence, drooling at the prospect of their blood in his mouth. He simply knew that those people shared his hunger, and he wasn’t strong enough to fight them and _win_. Not yet.) 

-

Satoshi Anayama was an ordinary child. 

He liked to play with friends and didn’t care about the grass stains that he accumulated on his clothes. He whined about having to eat his vegetables and always bartered for more candy or meat on his plate. He liked sports, and couldn’t wait to attend the athletics club when he became old enough to join. He had two imaginary friends called Ryo and Miki, and he had nightmares about his house burning down.   
Satoshi Anayama had loving, caring parents. His mother and father made sure that one of them was always home to keep him company, and every evening they sat with him to read books, talk about his day, and play. 

There was nothing about Satoshi Anayama that rang warning bells. There was nothing about his behaviour that couldn’t be explained by simple happenstance or a quirk of his personality. He might not be the brightest star in the sky, but he had a kind heart and a strong body, and Satoshi’s caretakers could all agree on one thing: Satoshi would be all right. 

(They were half right. It would take godlike strengths to destroy his body, but psychologically? Satoshi hadn’t been all right for a long time.) 

-

At age four, a handful of weeks after his birthday, Satoshi Anayama got his Quirk. 

It happened during a villain attack. Satoshi and his mother had been walking back home from a trip to the park when a villain had burst through the crowds with a hostage in their hands. A hero had to have been on their tail. They were looking over their shoulder with wide eyes, struggling to hold onto their hostage as well as a dented metal suitcase.  
It was, sadly, a common sight. The crowd parted for the villain and people craned their necks to see which hero was in pursuit. Phones were taken out to try and record the take-down, and the villain was losing – desperately looking for a way to escape when there was none.

The villain was one of those people whose mutation-quirk made them look inhuman and frightening, to the point where it was hard to even guess at their gender. Their skin was a deep green, and they sported a set of fearsome looking mandibles as well as a second pair of arms, topped with three nubby useless fingers. They didn’t look any faster or stronger than any non-mutated person with the way they were struggling to stay standing with a suitcase, a gun, and a hostage in their hands. 

“Move! Out of my fuckin’ way or I shoot!” They yelled. Their voice was mutated too – a raspy garble that sounded like someone blowing air into a microphone. Despite that, the panic and desperation in their voice rang clear.

Satoshi’s mother had already seen her fair share of these situations, and she grabbed for Satoshi’s hand to drag him a few steps back. Except Satoshi didn’t budge, and it felt as if she was pulling on a concrete statue rather than the soft hand of a child.   
She looked down at her son, and watched as her son’s pudgy little hand grew large, hot, and _clawed_. His skin was turning bruise-green, and underneath his muscles were growing like dry sponges in water. The villain forgotten, her mind quiet, Satoshi’s mother looked on in quiet bafflement. Horns. Fangs as big as fingers. Yellow eyes with red irises that glowed like coals in a fire. Thick black fur, demonic wings, a forked tail. Satoshi’s adorable little Best Jeanist shirt was ripped, and hanging off muscles that looked toned enough to crush rocks. 

_“Finally,”_ the man said. He sounded like a man who had been given a cup of water after dying from thirst.

This person couldn’t be Satoshi. This man stood so tall that the top of her head only barely reached his shoulders. Satoshi was four years old and only about as tall as her thigh, but she was holding his hand – and she had been holding Satoshi’s hand just moments before. 

Satoshi pulled his hand free from his mother’s grip and launched towards the villain. 

Most people didn’t see what happened. Satoshi had been so fast that most of the crowd had still been looking down the street, eager to catch a glimpse of the heroes that were pursuing the villain. By the time people heard a choked off yelp and a terrible tearing sound, the villain in question was already dead. One half of him was in Satoshi’s left hand, and the other was in his right. The hostage was trembling on the ground, covered in a spray of the villain’s blood. 

Satoshi seemed non-plussed at the gore pooling at his feet. (And it really _was_ Satoshi, because his little backpack was hanging on the tip of one of those monstrous wings, and the elastic band of his boxers was stretched to its limits around his hips.) 

_“That was it? Huh,”_ Satoshi said, sounding almost disappointed as he stared down at the glazed eyes of the dead human in his hands. He dropped the body, and turned around to his mother with a blinding smile that was full of blood and teeth. Had he bitten the criminal? She hadn’t seen it.  
Satoshi’s mother was fairly sure that her head wasn’t working right. She blinked stupidly and stood there as the monstrous creature walked towards her and slowly morphed back into innocent four-year-old Satoshi. He shrank, his green skin turned back into that beautiful tan she so loved, and his talons turned into flat stubby nails. He was naked, and his backpack plopped to the ground when his wings withdrew into his back.

Satoshi frowned as he took in his mother’s expression and seemed confused for a moment, before he looked down at himself. “Oh, ‘m sorry Kaa-san. I didn’t mean to rip up my clothing.” 

Working on automatic pilot and years of mothering experience, his mother kneeled in front of him and took off her jacket to wrap it around him. Before he could get a cold. 

The people that had been standing around them had stumbled away, or were standing perfectly still. A girl had previously been narrating the ‘villain’ attack into her phone, and was now numbly mumbling nonsense as she stared at the bisected human lying in the streets. More than one person had vomited, and some were in the process of desperately holding it back. Someone was calling the emergency line – they were asking for an ambulance. 

“Satoshi-kun?” Satoshi’s mother said. Her voice was calm, like the eye of a storm or the silence before a detonation. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m _Akira_ , Kaa-san,” Satoshi replied petulantly. He seemed unbothered by his nakedness, as well impervious to the cold concrete he was standing on. There was a spatter of blood on his cheek that his mother couldn’t quite work up the courage to wipe away. “An’ he was a Demon, so he had to die.” 

“A demon.” Satoshi’s mother was still frozen, her mind working slow – as if submerged in molasses. She thought he had gotten over his fear (?) of people with mutation quirks. He hadn’t called people demons or devils in _months_ , so why…? “He was a person with a mutation quirk. Remember? Sato-…Akira? Remember when we talked about that?” 

Satoshi gave her a look as if she was stupid. “He was taken over by a demon. They’re old monsters that lived on Earth before even the Dinosaurs, but God didn’t like them anymore and killed them so that humans could grow, but they’ve come back and they grow inside of people. Like him.” 

“Oh,” Satoshi’s mother said blankly. She could almost feel the storm approaching. The eye was passing over her. 

“A demon tried to take me over too, but I was too pure-hearted, so instead I took over _his_ body, and now I’m a Devilman who’ll keep Humanity safe from the Demons!” Satoshi continued blithely, and he beamed at her with unmistakable pride. 

The dam broke and the world began to move again, as Satoshi’s mother realized for the first time that there was something terribly, terribly wrong with her child.

When the heroes arrived, Satoshi’s mother thanked her lucky stars that none of them had a mutation quirk, or other apparel that her child could mistake for ‘Demon’ traits. She kept her boy clutched tight to her chest and ignored his questions of when they were going to go to home by pressing his face into the cloth of her shirt. She waited for the heroes to settle things.   
An ambulance was called, the police was called, and the heroes made sure there was ample space around the body. One of the younger heroes, a sidekick most likely, went around to bystanders to ask them what had happened, and a few moments later the heroes were standing guard around Satoshi and his mother instead – with their backs turned to the outside and their shoulders tense. 

Satoshi seemed surprised when the police officers asked them to step into the car, but his mother carried him in without complaint. Right before the doors locked and the officer made to drive off, Satoshi spoke up. 

“Kaa-san? Did I do something wrong?” He sounded earnest, as if he really didn’t understand what he had done. 

Where could they have gone wrong in raising him? What had happened in those four years that had led to their sweet little son committing a murder in the middle of a street? How could two people with an innocent healing quirk and an animal transformation quirk create a child with a quirk so devastating? 

“Yes, Satoshi. What you did was bad,” She said, and she even managed a shaky smile. “We’re going to the police station and talk to some officers while we wait for your Tou-san. We’re going to make sure that you’re all okay. Alright?” 

“ _Akira_ ,” Satoshi corrected, before he scrunched up his nose in confusion. “An’ I’m fine, we don’t need to go to the police.”

Satoshi’s mother brushed his hair away from his forehead, and placed a quick kiss on his head. “We’re just going to make sure.”

Satoshi squirmed a little under his mom’s jacket, but he stayed quiet all throughout the car ride to the police station. 

(It wasn’t his parent’s fault. Or even Satoshi’s own. Most of the blame lied with a creature that no longer existed, who came from a different world and a different time altogether. Whose webs of influence still fluttered in the wind, even though the spider himself was long dead, and the webs were old and tattered.) 

-

**Birth name:** Satoshi Anayama ~~((Addendum: quirk holder only responds to the name ‘Akira Fudo’. Potential psychological issue?))~~  
 **Birthday:** 13/04/xxxx  
 **Quirk:** ‘Devilman’   
**Type:** Transformation/ ~~Possible mutation? ((see results blood test.))~~

**Description:**  
Quirk Holder has the ability to transform into a creature with great physical strength, agility, and speed. Upon activation, the skin of the holder turns a dark turquoise, and both legs as well as the neck and the upper back will become covered in dark fur. The holder grows four horns (forehead and near the temples), wings (upper back), a tail (tailbone), fangs (all sharp, no flat teeth), and talons (on both hands and feet).

((Note: After the Hyogoku-street incident, it was decided to delay the usual measurements until further notice. Satoshi Anayama (4 yrs old at time of interview) elaborated on his quirk when asked. The following abilities are as of yet unconfirmed.))  
Superpowered tissue regeneration, capable of replacing at maximum one limb (Why one limb specifically?) worth of tissue. adjustable senses (can ‘lower’ or ‘turn up’ volume of surroundings). Partial transformation, including retracting/extending the wings. Releasing an energy beam ~~(‘Devil beam’?)~~ from between horns on the forehead. 

The drawback for using the quirk appears to be a greatly reduced capacity for empathy, an increased desire for violence, as well as greatly decreasing the iron and vitamin B12 stores from the body. Blood sample was yellow and contained high levels of sulfur and vanadium. ~~((Sulfur potential cause of low IQ- and intelligence testscores?))~~  
During the interview after the Hyogoku street incident (copy of incident report attached, see red tab), the quirk holder expressed a desire for further fights, and implied that his encounter earlier that day had been unsatisfying. S. Anayama seemed wholly unbothered by his actions. Recalled the event clearly and showed no signs of memory repression or PTSD. ~~((Worrying!!! Contact HPSC _ASAP_ ))~~

-

**Societal Risk Factor assessment – Satoshi Anayama – Date of test: 02/02/xx**   
_Evaluator name: [REDACTED]_

Sex: Male, he/him, amab   
Age: 4   
Birthday: 13/04/xx  
Quirk: ‘Devilman’ (Transformative/Mutant)   
Home Life: Two parent household, double middle-class income, unremarkable school life, calm neighborhood. Investigations on teachers and parents ~~pending~~ came back clear across board. (Home life of subject unlikely to be an attributing factor to shown behaviour.)   
Psychological eval summary:   
\- ~~Subject exhibits average behaviour for boy at age 4.~~ Appears highly empathic at first glance but has inconsistent reactions to upsetting imagery, implying a form of mental instability or that his reactions are (partially) an act.   
-Subject corrects any use of his given name to the name ‘Akira Fudo’. The origins of this name are unknown to parents, but subject is adamant that it is his original given name and that ‘Satoshi’ came later. When asked for more details on the parents that named him ‘Akira’, subject creates a complex fantasy narrative that appears centered around a branch of Christian religion. His parents are not Christian.  
-The fantasy world narrative is not new. (Mother interjected in the story to explain.) Subject had been showing hostility towards mutant quirks as young as one years old, calling them ‘Demons’, but problem was thought to be fixed after father showed off his transformation quirk.   
\- Inquired about imaginary friends ‘Ryo’ and ‘Miki’. Subject could give very detailed descriptions of them, and was never inconsistent with their traits or elaborate history. 

**Note: While speaking about ‘Miki’, subject suddenly veered into lewd observations and appeared to become sexually charged. Subject’s quirk activated (partial transformation) and test was cut short for safety of all involved. No casualties.**  
Physical eval: Only speculation available at this moment in time  
Ethics eval: Only speculation available at this moment in time  
Morality eval: Only speculation available at this moment in time   
Quirk related disorders/hindrances: Only speculation available at this moment in time

Evaluator notes: This kid is a disaster waiting to happen. Subject’s Quirk itself is cause of the instability, and cannot be fully cancelled due to it being part Mutant. It’s proven to have a strong effect on physical and mental development, and it’s unlikely that ‘soft’ treatments will have a desirable outcome 

Evaluator Recommendation (circle applicable) : ~~No further action necessary /Monitor/Rehabilitate/Relocate & rehabilitate/Special program/Special containment ~~ (All options have been scribbled over with blue pen. There is only a string of letters and numbers, jotted down in neat handwriting.) 

`RT-2-D5-7RY `

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Devilman Crybaby and was just completely obsessed with writing fanfiction for it - except that Devilman Crybaby is kind of hard to write fanfic for with canon being what it is. <_< (Y'all know what I mean). I had a story in mind, but it required a different universe than the original Devilman Crybaby world - and since I read BNHA right after Devilman Crybaby I figured... Why not? 
> 
> Full disclosure: I wrote this for my own peace of mind and I will not be updating this on any kind of schedule, or even any kind of guarantee at all. I'll see how far my interest takes me! Wish me luck y'all. 
> 
> And so starts Akira Fudo's journey to figuring out that maybe, he never was as much of a hero as he thought he was.


End file.
